It's been a strange week and I haven't figured out whether it's bad strange or good strange. I've been alternating between productivity and procrastination.
Saturday evening, after Jamie had her doctor's appointment, my friend Criss (yes, impromptu tattoo Criss) and I visited the scene of much bank account depletion, a place I haven't visited in years because I have no self control. SEPHORA. Evil, evil Sephora. You with your myriad mascaras, endless eye shadows, limitless lip glosses, plentiful perfumes, and bounteous brushes. Damn you, Sephora. And damn me for not being able to resist the empty promises of "longer, fuller lashes." As if spending $20 on a tube of mascara will guarantee better results than the $6 I spend at Target. Don't get me wrong. I don't regret my Sephora spree. I love that place--LOVE IT! Nothing else makes me feel so completely girly like an entire store devoted to pretty. Ulta doesn't pack quite the same punch. I suspect it's the black clad assistants. However, I did spend far too much money when you consider I bought mascara and lip gloss (okay, several mascaras and many lip glosses).
Having Monday off, I spent a lazy weekend knitting, painting, laundering (and photographing the bottoms of cute boys from New Jersey). Then work--ah, work. Half the office is out sick. A bunch of us (myself included) are leaving early to do site observations of our after school programs. The gray sky has made for a depressing view. And today, all the space heaters we have in our offices blew a breaker so we had no computers from about 2pm on. And no one was terribly upset.
Hooray, tomorrow's Friday! Boo, no weekday holidays until May. I feel a sick day coming on. Oh, I'd better not say that. I'm trying to avoid the fluish folks in the office.